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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577461">what you see is what you get</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_on_a_Staff/pseuds/Star_on_a_Staff'>Star_on_a_Staff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Azure Moon Route, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hilda Teaches Marianne about PDA, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Married Couple, PDA, Post-Canon, Public Display of Affection, Sexual Humor, Steamy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:16:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_on_a_Staff/pseuds/Star_on_a_Staff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“The thing about dealing with old close-minded nobles on matters of heirship and propagation, Marianne,” Hilda begins loftily, “is that you gotta play them like a musician plays the lute. See, feeling each other up in public might not be proper decorum, but it does reassure the nobles that at least you’re trying. You understand what I’m saying?”</p><p>Or; Hilda advises Marianne on why PDA is important when you're married to the King of Fodlan. Dimitri/Marianne, post canon Azure Moon route. A little bit of steam, but mostly fun and hijinks over all!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>166</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what you see is what you get</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Sarah! You know who you are &lt;3</p><p>This pairing is literally the cutest and they deserve some tender loving and added boosts of confidence :D</p><p>Also this is like the first non-felannie piece I've written in a LONG time so I felt like I driving a new car when writing this. What are words and relationship dynamics again???</p><p>Anyway, enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Marianne,” Hilda says abruptly one day over tea, “Have you and Dimitri consummated your relationship yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marianne casts her friend a softly exasperated glance over the china cup in her hands. “Hilda, I believe you’ve already asked me this. With varying degrees of courtesy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just can’t believe it!” Hilda throws her hands in the air and lounges inelegantly back in her chair, her lip pressed in a moue. “How can a husband and wife-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hilda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-who already did the nasty-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marianne folds her hands. “Hilda...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-act so prudish around each other?” Hilda sails on as if Marianne hadn’t said anything, glowering at her best friend. “Seriously, I know you two are the King and Queen and all, and you’ve got this glorious and decadent image to maintain, but you guys don’t even hold each other’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hands </span>
  </em>
  <span>in public!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not exactly that kind of couple, Hilda.” Marianne says with the longsuffering air of a martyr. “We all can’t be like you and Caspar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hilda vibrates in place with a grin on her face, propping her chin on her steepled fingers. Marianne suddenly gets an excellent view down her decolletage. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No one</span>
  </em>
  <span> can be like me and Caspar,” Hilda purrs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um.” Marianne says eloquently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marianne.” Hilda’s razor sharp smile softens and she leans forward to stroke Marianne’s pale gloved hand. “I know you two have issues to deal with, and I’m sorry for being so up in your face about this. But people are kind of...talking, you know? Rumors are bullshit, I know, but they’re recently picking up again and I think that you should really do something about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill settles in Marianne’s stomach. A memory, many years old but ever fresh in her mind, resurfaces. The man with the cruel face, spitting at the feet of her professor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re putting yourself in danger by associating with her!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of rumors?” She manages to get out. “Is it about my Cres-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, goodness, nothing like that!” Hilda reassures hastily. “People are just talking about if you and/or Dimitri are infertile or not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Marianne says with relief, and then does a double take. “Wait, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, some people are impatient little bastards.” Hilda shakes her pretty head, leaning back. “It’s been like what, a few months since your wedding and they’re already asking for babies? Like, excuse me, give the royals a break!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are people really worried about that?” Marianne asks, her hands tightening around her cooling cup of lavender. “I...never considered that as a problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if this were five or ten years ago, you should’ve.” Hilda takes a cookie with a jelly center and delicately takes an elegant nibble. “But now we’ve won a war and overthrown a thousand-year old regime! I think people should start opening their minds to the possibility that not every married couple wants to end up with a squalling infant nine months right after the wedding night, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> not the busy King and Queen of the Kingdom dealing with the fallout of a continental war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does this have to do with public displays of affection?” Marianne says with mingled embarrassment and amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thing about dealing with old close-minded nobles on matters of heirship and propagation, Marianne,” Hilda begins loftily, straightening her shoulders and adopting a professor-like air that was unlike Byleth and more like Manuela, “is that you gotta play them like a musician plays the lute. See, feeling each other up in public might not be proper decorum, but it does reassure the nobles that at least you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You understand what I’m saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marianne nods dumbly, her head spinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hilda rattles on, undeterred.“So, I’m not saying to start giving your royal husband quickies underneath the table during official councils, but you can at least start holding hands every so often during public appearances. It won’t kill you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shines a beatific smile on a very scarlet Marianne and pats her hand briskly. “At least think about it, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marianne sends up a prayer to the Goddess and swallows the last of her lavender tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>O.O</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even if Marianne had been struck dumb by Hilda’s advice, it had nothing on Dimitri’s reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she’s finished pounding her choking husband’s back and making sure that the water hasn’t gone down the wrong way, Marianne leans back to wring her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sylvain tried telling me something similar once before,” Dimitri finally works out after his fit, his voice all raspy and hoarse. “But Felix had cut him off before he had said anything.” He looks up at his wife, his blue eye watery but thoughtful. “What do you make of this, my love?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sinks down to sit next to him on the bed, her skirts fanning out on the sheets. “I...don’t know, honestly. I...see the reason in her plan? But at the same time…” Marianne trails off, biting her lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Dimitri says with a half-groan, half-embarrassed laugh. His arm wraps comfortably around her shoulders and she leans into his warmth like it’s second nature. “It’ll take some time to get used to being...affectionate in front of others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re alright with it?” Marianne says in surprise. “Wouldn’t this be improper?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” Dimitri coughs a little, trying and failing to keep eye contact, “As long as nothing...explicit happens? I’m sure the nobles will be more than satisfied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can try it out tomorrow.” Marianne suggests, playing absently with the loosened ties of his tunic, tying and untying and retying again.  “Saint Macuil’s Day is almost upon us, and you’ll have to deliver an address, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remind me.” Dimitri groans. He shivers as her straying fingers brush the column of his neck, trailing up to trace the cut of his jaw. “Marianne…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush.” She murmurs, her ears red but her fingers deft and sure as they creep up to brush his hair out of his eye. “I just want to practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dimitri’s breath hitches as her nails scrape against his scalp, and his hands clutch around the flare of her hips as she shifts to settle more fully in his lap, curling her hands about his head to tilt his face up to meet hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Practice, hm?” He chuckles, the timbre of his voice growing dark and thready like smoke as she moves her hips down against his. “My love, I think you’re missing the point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What point?” Marianne says softly, a hint of Hilda’s confidence creeping into her body as she drapes her arms around Dimitri’s neck and arches her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The point that—ahhhh—that there aren’t any nobles here...at the moment.” Dimitri gasps as she repeats the movement, harder this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just practice, Dimitri.” Marianne repeats stubbornly, flushing pink as his larger fingers begin to work her nightdress down her pale shoulders, his hand cupping the curl of her shoulder with reverence as she buries her very red face into the crook of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Dimitri smiles, soft and sinful all at once. “Let’s be sure to practice </span>
  <em>
    <span>thoroughly</span>
  </em>
  <span> then,” He presses a kiss to her collar, warm with just a hint of teeth, and as her breath hitches, he raises one blue eye up to meet her gaze, fiery and adoring all at once. “For the people, of course.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the people.” Marianne’s hand splays on the broad expanse of his chest as she lowers her head to meet his raised one, and she chases Hilda’s advice out of her head by kissing her husband senseless in their empty bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>O.O</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On Saint Macuil’s Day, as the Kingdom celebrates the saint with stringed instruments and their voices alike, the royal advisors were disconcerted to find that their king and queen were rather late to the opening ceremony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Duke Fraldarius and his wife stalled for time, the head royal advisor hurriedly excused himself to retrieve their Royal Majesties. After a few minutes, King Dimitri and Queen Marianne arrived in a state of unkempt splendor, and though they wore the appropriate garb for the public presentation, there was something about the two young royals that puzzled the advisor. Did they always walk so close to each other?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You took your time.” Duke Fraldarius says scathingly as the king hastily ascends the royal balcony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I apologize.” The king says with great earnestness, taking his wife by the waist and drawing her with great tenderness up the podium. “We quite lost track of the hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The queen blushes prettily and, before the entire crowd gathered in front of the royal capital, stands on tiptoe to press a tender kiss to his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duchess Fraldarius squeaks at the sight and the royal advisor all but chokes on his own tongue. But it’s a fleeting moment and though the king reciprocates with enough fervor to make the Duke gag, the queen quickly pulls away from her husband and straightens his dark blue lapel as if nothing had happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me.” Marianne says in a soft but unapologetic voice, smiling at the front of the crowd where a grinning  Hilda is brandishing two very enthusiastic thumbs up, “I just couldn’t help myself.”</span>
</p>
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